Dead Reality
by Chut Up Bushes
Summary: One question: What if Buffy was never resurrected? Would Giles leave? Would Dawn get in more trouble? What would happen to Spike? Would Xander leave Anya at the alter? Would Tara die? Okay so, that's more than one question. They'll be answered here.
1. Prolouge

Prologue:

Everyone stared in silence at Buffy's lifeless body strayed among the debris. Chaos exploded around them, Giles and Spike, Xander, Anya, Tara, Willow. Dawn straining to climb down from unstable bridge. They all just waited for her to move, to jump up and use her slayer powers to regain her strength. But it didn't happen. And it still didn't happen at the small gathering they had at the graveyard then next week. No hand shot from the grave, pulling herself up from the underground darkness. Buffy Summers was dead, yet no one could believe it.


	2. Empty Seat

Chapter 1:

The bright lights of the Bronze danced across the Scooby Gang's usual table, seeming to linger on the vacant chair next to Willow. Xander had his head settled on his hands, staring off into the distance while Willow seemed to be studying the ceiling, possibly counting tiles. Anya appeared from around the corner, wine glass in hand. She set it down on the table.

"Who'd like to join me on the dance floor." Silence responded as the loud rock music echoed off the walls. Suddenly, Dawn raised her hand eagerly as if she was in Kindergarten and knew the answer to 1+1. Anya rolled her eyes.

"Xander?" He didn't seem to hear her. "Willow?" Willow shook her head slowly, still studying the ceiling. "Tara?"

"No thanks." Tara responded, glancing to Dawn. Anya heaved a huge sigh.

_"Dawn?" _At this, Dawn smiled and let out a squeal, diving onto the dance floor. The two disappeared as if swallowed by the crowd.

"Too bad Mr. Giles couldn't make it." Tara said, more to herself than anyone.

"It's not that he couldn't make it. He just that he thinks he's too old for the Bronze." Xander finally spoke up. Willow took her focus off the ceiling.

"Well, I think he's pretty hip and grooving for his age, so too bad for him." She spotted the wine glass and looked at Xander.

"Is she going to finish that?" Willow questioned. Xander seemed to be spacing out again. "Hello? Xander…"

"Oh, yeah, what?" He stumbled.

"Is she going to finish that?" Willow repeated, motioning to the wine.

"Who?"

"The queen of England."

"What?" Xander shook his head, a confused look on his face. Willow laughed.

"Anya, who do you think?"

"Oh, uh, I don't know." Xander retreated to his gaze into nowhere. Willow threw a worried glance to Tara, taking a small sip of the red wine and setting it down again.

"Tara?" She said. Tara turned to her.

"Yeah?"

"This is really weird."

"Yeah."

"Wake up, Dawn." Dawn moaned at Willow's voice, but the sudden burst of sunlight into her room was hard to ignore. She yanked the covers over her head.

"Nooooooo."

"Yes, Dawn." Willow pulled the covers off of Dawn's face, forcing Dawn to sit up.

"Getting up this early just for school should be outlawed." Dawn groaned, stumbling out of her bed and blinking at the bright light. Willow left the room and went down to the kitchen, where Tara was making Dawn's lunch. They had had the Buffybot around for a while, but it ended up being really awkward. Now she was only brought out at night to keep the vamps at bay. But they wouldn't be able to hide their secret forever. Someone would figure out that Buffy was dead sooner or later.

"Peanut butter?" At first Willow that Tara was speaking to her, but she realized Dawn had entered the kitchen.

"Sure." Dawn said, grabbing the paper sack. She leaped out the door quickly, obviously choosing to walk to school that day.

"What's the rush?" Tara questioned, glancing out the door after her.

Janice stepped out from behind the tree, startling Dawn.

"My god, Janice. I thought we were meeting at school…"

"Change of plans," Janice stated curtly, unzipping her bag. "Principal Clearence put up surveillance cameras."

"What!?" Dawn shouted, crossing the road with Janice trailing behind. "Where?"

"Like, everywhere. Well, in all the hallways, and outside. The _patio_."

"THE PATIO!" Dawn nearly screamed, getting an odd look from Janice.

"Yeah, I know. You don't have to shout about it, though." Janice reached in her pocket and pulled out a lighter.

"Sorry." Dawn apologized, sighing at the sight of the crowded junior high looming in their path.

"I can't wait 'till the new high school's done. There's supposedly a basement. _Unlocked_ and _no cameras_."

"Awesome. But- how are we going to do this?" Dawn questioned as Janice suddenly pulled her behind a bush. She flicked on her lighter, the orange flame reflecting in her eyes. Janice handed Dawn the lit cigarette.

Xander yawned loudly as the afternoon sun filled his room through the large windows. He could hear cars passing by outside, a loud siren going off somewhere. He threw up his arms in a stretch, reluctantly rolling out of his comfortable bed. He stumbled across the room, barely walking strait. He couldn't remember how many drinks he had last night. Maybe he didn't have any. He scratched his head, his socked feet sliding slightly on the tile as he made his way to the refrigerator, pulling a glass of orange juice out.

"You're up."

Xander jumped at the sound of Anya's voice, turning to face her. "Aren't you supposed to be at the Magic Box?" He questioned, setting the orange juice back in the fridge.

"Giles is already there and I was afraid you would do one of those drunken things like throw up in your sleep and choke on it."

"So I did drink." Xander whispered to himself.

"Actually," Anya responded anyway, "I'm not really sure. You didn't really talk to me last night." The last part she said bitterly.

"I happened to be tired, Anya." Xander said curtly, shooting her a glare.

"I called in sick for you." She responded.

"Anya! I need those sick days. You can't just waste them like that."

"I feel appreciated." Anya mumbled, yanking her coat off the hook. "I'm going to the Magic Box. Where I'm _really_ needed." She slammed the door behind her.


	3. Tara

**Chapter 2:**

**S**pike's chair squeaked as he settled down into it. He was so hungry- he hadn't eaten in days. Sure, he'd eaten, but he hadn't _eaten_. Something, though, like a ticking in his brain, drove the desire for him to have more tonight than Weetabix mixed with piggy's blood. Something deep inside him hungered, thirsted for the taste of human blood, real blood. He imagined it now, trickling down his throat as he lifted his head from the innocent's neck, his mouth smeared red. So fresh, so satisfying, almost more so than his victim's screams for mercy. He clenched his hands around the arms of the chair. But this thing, this bloody chip in his head stopped him from performing his given rights. But really, Spike could take more pain than that, more pain than a sudden sharp sting in his head. But then it was over. Once you bit them, it was over. And you got to taste them, that fresh, pure blood. A little pain in the head was worth it. And tonight, Spike thought, rising from his seat slowly, tonight I'll taste that.

**G**iles yawned, studying the Magic Box. A young women draped in black cloaks was glancing through the shelves of magic books, fingering the dark arts section most often. She was the first customer since he opened two hours ago, and it just seemed like she was browsing. Giles poked his key into the cash register, popping it open with a _cling. _Leafing through the bills, he ticked off the amounts in his head.

"Oh dear." His face went white as he totaled the amounts. The women glanced up at him as he whipped his glasses off his head and chewed on the corner of them. He counted the money again, double-checking and praying that there has been a mistake. He came to the same amount and suddenly a brew of frustration exploded inside of him and, shoving the money back into the register, slammed it shut. The sound echoed through the shop as the woman took another stare at him. Giles's anger increased.

"What?"

The woman shook her head slowly and began walking towards the door. Giles's eyes widened.

"Um, no, I'm terribly sorry. It's just… I'm a little disturbed." He plead, and realized a little too late that that didn't sound too good.

"I mean-"

But the woman was already scurrying out the door and the bell clanged loudly behind her. Giles slammed his fist down on the desk.

"BOLLICKS!"

**"G**iles called. Watch out- demon in the Magic Box." Willow warned, hanging up the phone.

"W-what? There's a demon in the Magic Box?" Tara questioned, narrowing her eyes.

"Yeah," Willow continued, "It's called Giles-angry-and-using-British-words-I-don't-understand demon."

Tara nodded knowingly, "Oh, that demon. He's been like that a lot lately." She handed Willow a cup of steaming coffee and the two settled down onto the sofa.

"Well," Willow paused, taking a sip of her drink, "I don't really blame him. I mean, the Magic Box is heading down the road of unvisited stores. He said… well, it's really bad."

"It can't be that bad." Tara said, folding her legs under her. She moved a little closer to Willow as a sudden chill wrapped around her.

"Twenty dollars this week." Willow whispered. Tara's jaw dropped open.

"WHAT!? Are you kidding me?" Tara shook her head. "Th-that's awful."

"I know. And I feel really bad for Giles. I mean, he really needs the money." Willow set her coffee down on the coffee table, waiting for it to cool down.

"So he was pretty mad, huh?" Tara questioned, taking a cautious sip from her mug. Willow exhaled loudly at this.

"No kidding. He was like the big British giant who's beanstalk was just destroyed."

"I don't think that's how it goes, Wil." Tara scoffed, lightening the mood. Willow just shot her a brief roll of the eyes.

"Well, if _I_ think he was bad, then Anya will be in for a heck of a lot of angry British words."

"Why's that?" Tara said, moving closer to Willow at the unexpected draft that hit the room once again. Tara swore she could hear the smallest whisper of her name.

"Anya hasn't been there much at all for the past couple of weeks, and weirdly, Giles says she _attracts _customers."

"That is weird."

"Well, yeah, her personality can definitely be a turn-off…" Willow agreed, but was interrupted by Tara.

"I was talking about… _that._" Tara said as the cold hit her again. Willow raised an eyebrow at her.

"What?"

"Th-that weird gust of wind." Tara stuttered. She shivered as she heard the voice whisper her name again. She lowered her voice self-consciously. "And that."

"Tara… are you feeling okay?" Willow asked worriedly.

"Of course." Tara said, dismissing the occurrence. But she couldn't quite forget that cold, inhuman voice that echoed in her skull.

_Tara._


	4. Bloody Broke

**Chapter 3:**

**D**awn inhaled the smoke. The thick, smoky substance clogged her throat. She coughed, getting an odd look from Janice.

"Come on, Dawn, you've gotta be used to it by now." Janice sighed, expertly taking a puff from the cigarette and exhaling it quickly.

"Well, the bell's going to ring soon anyway." Dawn complained, flicking and grounding her cigarette into the sidewalk. "Ms. Rehteon will kill us if we're late." Dawn coughed into her hand again as she scooped her backup up on her shoulders.

"Tell her I'm in the bathroom." Janice demanded. Dawn stood up, brushing the grass off her jeans.

"Janice, come on. I'm going." Her friend responded by leaning against the bush and crossing her legs. Dawn shook her head. "Fine. But that's the last time I'm going to make an excuse for you." Janice smiled at this.

"See you in Math." Came the call as Dawn headed towards the school.

Just as Dawn climbed up the stone steps and pushed open the heavy doors, the warning bell rang. Students lingered in the hallway as if they hadn't even heard it. Dawn ran to her locker and grabbed her lock. 34-0-26. She yanked on the lock, but it wouldn't budge. She sighed and spun the dial around three times, attempting the combination again. It stayed locked. After attempting it a third time and failing, Dawn tried turning the lock sideways to look at the back of it at the serial number. Ripping a page from the notebook she was carrying and producing a pen from her pocket, she recorded the number and started heading to Mr. Sivraj's room. He was the health teacher but also kept information on the locks. He'd be able to tell her the combination. She bit her lip as she glanced quickly at her watch. 7:58. The next bell rang in two minutes, and Ms. Rehteon wasn't pleasant about tardy students. Arriving at her health teacher's room, she knocked quickly on the window. She saw him glance up from the papers he was reading and rise from his seat, opening the door.

"Hello, Dawn. Can I help you with something?" Mr. Sivraj questioned, scratching his chin briefly. Dawn shifted the weight of her backpack.

"Yeah, actually. My lock won't open and I think someone may have messed with it. Do you think you can help me open it before Ms. Rehteon gives one of her tardy speeches?" She waited for the teacher to respond. He seemed to be deep in thought, his eyes distant.

"Uh, Mr. Sivraj?" Dawn interrupted. He looked at her again.

"Uh, sure. Is that the number?" He said cautiously, motioning to the paper. Dawn nodded and handed it to him, getting a side-eyes look from him as he leafed through the files.

"I think this is it, Dawn. 22-14-06. Is that your combination?"

"Uh, no." Dawn answered curiously. Why and _how _would someone switch her lock? No one knew her combination…

"Well, try it." His eyes narrowed suddenly, "If you need anything else, I mean anything else at all you want to talk to me about, feel free to." Mr. Sivraj shooed her out the door quickly. "It's getting late. See you in class today."

Dawn wrinkled her brow in confusion as she scurried down the halls back to her locker. No witty remark about vandals? No 'have a splendid day and make sure you brush your teeth tonight'? Dawn sighed. That was so unlike Mr. Sivraj. But then again, she thought, this was the Hellmouth.

**T**he Magic Box's door banged behind Anya, the bell ringing pleasantly. She was surprised not to see any customers browsing the shelves like there usually were, asking for bird's feet or toads or something or other. A knock on the door from behind startled her. Anya rushed to the door once she saw the man in a brown suit and cap struggling to hold a large box upright.

"Delivery for the Magic Box." The man said curtly, dropping the box into Anya's arms. She nearly pitched forward as he turned around and started walking away.

"Well you're not much of a gentleman!" She called after him, causing him to turn around and face her. He shrugged.

"It's just my day job." Anya made a face at his back as he climbed into his large brown truck. She kicked the door open with her foot, stumbling into the store and setting the large box down. It looked tempting, but it probably wasn't too valuable or she'd have to sign for it. She gave the shop another look-over. Giles was nowhere in sight. Maybe just a little peek wouldn't hurt any…

Anya grabbed a pen from the counter and began slitting the tape.

"No, no! Don't open it!" Anya looked up at the sound of Giles's voice to find him looming over her. "Don't open it, Anya. We're sending it back."

"Back? What do you mean, sending it back? It's merchandise!" Anya lowered her pen to the tape again, but Giles grabbed her wrists and pulled her up from the ground.

"Gees, Rupert." She complained, yanking away from his grip, "No need to be so testy. I mean, it's merchandise. We need it."

"I don't care if it's Celine Dion! We're sending it back! The Magic Box is broke!" Giles sighed loudly as Anya widened her eyes at him.

"Oh my god." She glanced around quickly just to make sure no one would hear, not that there was anyone to hear in the first place. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "You like Celine Dion?"

"Anya! Did you even hear me!?" Giles banged his head on the cash register.

"I don't think that's the way you open it. And you're acting very odd. Why?"

Giles lifted his head from the cash register, giving her a peer over the rim of his glasses. "I guess the phrase 'dumb blonde' still means something to you." Anya was taken aback by the comment.

"Giles! You're _insulting _me. You're so… out of character. And besides… guess who does the account managing?"

"You mean me…"

"Well, sure, but I definitely can get a crowd here…"

"Which you haven't been doing lately! Where have you been, Anya!? The Magic Box is going out of business! It's bombing! WE'RE BLOODY BROKE!" Giles's face was red. "Are you getting this, Anya? You've abandoned your job and now, now there's nothing but twenty dollars." Giles stalked into the backroom angrily and slammed the door. It echoed and left Anya with her mouth hanging open.

**T**he beats of the drummer pulsed along the walls and echoed in Xander's head. He took a brief sip of his beer, staring somewhere off into the distance. Willow and Tara had to study spells, Dawn was doing homework, and Anya was trying to convince Giles to come out of the back room. But Xander wasn't here all alone. He turned to Buffy.

"You want to dance or something?" He questioned her as she seemed to be studying the people pulsing back and forth on the dance floor. The fluorescent lights gave him an out-of-body feeling. Buffy shook her head and made a face.

"Nah. All those people sweating and groping… I'll pass. Remind me why we're here again?" She turned back to Xander, grabbing his beer. "No more drinking for you. You know what happened when I did that." Xander smiled at the flashback.

"Exactly that."

"What?"

"That's why we're here. Memories. You know, think of the good times." Xander had no reaction as Buffy tossed the beer cup in a nearby garbage.

"So me being a caveman is a 'good time'?" Buffy laughed. Xander chuckled briefly.

"If you were looking at it from the outside." Xander said, glancing at the stage's band. They briefly reminded him of the band Oz was in. Same sound. Same eerie feeling. He wondered what happened to him. He decided to share this with Buffy. Turning to her, she suddenly seemed younger.

"I wonder whatever happened to Oz." Buffy gave him an odd look at this comment.

"He's right there." Buffy said oddly, motioning to the stage. The old stage. The guitarist had his head bent over, ticking the beat with his foot and strumming a chilling tune on his guitar. He looked up and seemed to nod his head subtly at the two. Oz. Buffy cheered.

"Go Oz!" She shouted, cupping her hands over her mouth. She turned to Xander. "Too bad Willow couldn't be here. Then it would be the Scoobies."

"Yeah." Xander said thoughtfully. "The Scoobies."


	5. Vampire? There's a vampire out there?

**Chapter 4:**

**S**pike could swear he could hear his own dead heart beating as he walked down the abandoned, dank alley. Just ten minutes ago he had gotten so sick of hearing the sound of his own voice echoeing in his crypt that he had decided to take a venture out into the town. This, though, just made Spike long even more for a good victim to walk obliviously by him without knowing a thing until he would sink his white fangs into their neck. Spike's head started pounding even at the though of this, and he ignored the insistint hunger and continued walking. This was, of course, hard to resist when a girl came out of a side door of the alley and walked unknowingly ahead of him, her heels tapping on the wet pavement. Spike's mouth watered and he clenched his hands into tight fists. He couldn't ignore it now, he knew. Spike just had to- he had to fight through the pain. Once taste, that's all. Just one taste of human blood, of this human. He didn't have to know who she was- he didn't have to feel the least guilty. Spike tensed as the woman stopped, looking as if she was going to turn around. Spike took a deep breath and leaned against the wall, trying to look casual. But instead of looking behind her, the woman just looked to her left and right as she herself leaned against the brick wall, staring straight ahead. Spike couldn't quite see it, but he guessed what she pulled from her purse was a cigarette judging from the billowing smoke that soon began to rise above her head. Now Spike saw his opprotunity, ducking low and creeping silently along the ground towards the woman. He flinched as the woman began turning on her heels to face him. Spike quickly ducked behind a nearby dumpster, holding his breath. He heard the woman say something, and the voice struck something in his brain, but he shook his head and poked his head around the corner of the dumpster. She had her back to him again. Spike decided to take the initiative of rushing out from behind the dumpster at an inhuman speed and grabbing the woman around the shoulders. He heard her let out a shriek, but then she was silent. She started- Spike shook her head- she started talking, but she mind as well have been speaking a different language because Spike shut her voice out. He leaned forward to her neck, not wanting to look at her face. Then he'd know who it was- and he'd feel guilty and not be able to picture anyone but her for the rest of his life when he would sit down and eat his bloody Weetabix in the morning. Spike sank his teeth into her neck as a sharp pain shot through his head. He ignored it as the warm blood flowed into his mouth. He felt his eyes light. There was something different about this blood, there was something... something evil. Something in it made him want more- but he was shoved back by the woman, and, in his weak state of mind, fell back against the dumpster. He wanted to chase after her, but when he finally looked up she was already gone. Spike shook his head. He needed to find out who that was.

**T**ara jumped as Willow sat down next to her with a cup of coffee. She closed the book she was reading and set it down on the table. Willow looked at her oddly.

"Gees, Tara, why so jumpy?"

Tara shook her head. Ever since she and Willow had talked the other day and she had heard that strange voice, Tara had been more cautious than usual. But she had to admit, she hadn't heard it since. She turned her attention back to Willow.

"So, are there any vamps out there that need the stake?" She asked Willow, who had taken a short stroll earlier, when it had turned to dusk, to see if she could catch any sight of them. Willow shook her head, sipping at her coffee.

"Actually, no. I mean, you'd think there'd be more-" Willow broke off breifly, then cleared her throat. "Like they'd be taking advantage of us or something. But- there are none. Not even one. I don't get it. There's always vampires, especially-"

Tara zoned out on Willow's voice as she felt a cold gust of air. Not again, she thought, closing her eyes. She could hear Willow's voice in the background.

"Vampire??? There's a vampire out there???" Tara heard Willow urgently say. She opened her eyes, confused, to see Anya standing at the door. That had been the wind she'd felt. Tara sighed with relief. Willow turned to her.

"Anya saw a vampire."

"I didn't just see it, for cripes sake! It attacked me!" Anya exclaimed, clutching her hand to her neck. Tara got up.

"A-are you okay?" She asked, walking up to her. Anya pulled her hand away, revealing two red marks. Willow shrieked.

"Look at your hand!" Tara winced as she glanced at it. There was blood all over it. she glanced at Will, who responded quickly, "I'll go get some towels or something." Anya shook her head.

"It's nothing." But Tara could tell that she didn't really mean it. The wounds were starting to bleed again. Tara made a face.

"So, what did it look like?"

"I don't know!" Anya exclaimed as Willow handed her a towel. She pressed it to her neck. "I was focusing on surviving. But- well, no. You'll think I'm insane."

"Too late for that." Willow muttered as Anya rolled her eyes at her. Tara raised an eyebrow.

"Well?"

"Well, I dunno. I think-" Anya stopped in mid-sentence, shaking her head. Willow threw her hands up in the air.

"What!?"

Anya looked from Willow to Tara, to her hand, and back to Willow and Tara. "I think it was Spike."

**"A**re you going to pay for that?" The woman asked, leaning over Xander. He glanced down at his glass, startled from his thoughts. The woman sat down, her brown ponytail swinging. "I mean, I brought it to you eariler, and you said you'd pay for it later. But you've been kind of you know, spacing out. And it's almost closing time."

Xander peered at the shiny silver name tag pinned to her vest. He took a five dollar bill out of his pocket.

"I'm sorry, Kathleen." Xander said, handing the wadded up bill to her. She raised her eyebrow at him and made a face, sticking out her tounge.

"I hate that name. Everyone calls me Kat." She suddenly extended her hand to Xander, who shook it, but didn't say anything. Kat laughed briefly. "This is the part where you tell me your name." Xander smiled and wacked himself on the forehead.

"Right! I'm Alexander, but you're going to forget that's my name because it's so ugly and formal. All of my friends call me Xander. With an X." Kat smiled at this, widening her eyes curiously.

"And your girlfriend?" She hinted, instead of straight out asking him if he was single. Xander seemed to think the thought over.

"No." He said. Technically, his fiancée called him that. He didn't have to tell the girl about Anya.

It's not lke anything was going to happen.


End file.
